


For You Are Crunchy and Taste Good With Ketchup

by Medie



Category: RPF - Misc Actors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, recipient:TrollPrincess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons, faeries, and Michael Rosenbaum in trouble - must be Wednesday in Vancouver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For You Are Crunchy and Taste Good With Ketchup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trollprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollprincess/gifts).



> thank you, azar, for holding my hand and not telling me I was crazy. Okay, crazier than usual. Also, for the beta. This one was above and beyond the call.

"I trust you have a good explanation for this," announces Tricia. She slips into the chair across from Lexa, throwing her sunglasses on the table between them. Her annoyance is palpable, magic leaking about the edges of Lexa's awareness, putting the bite of frost into the air.

Folding her newspaper, Lexa crosses her legs. "Control yourself, Mab," she grins. "It's too early for a freak snowstorm."

Tricia waves a hand, summoning a waiter as she murmurs, "Caution, _Titania_."

The water in Lexa's glass turns to ice, cheerful patterns painting along its surface and she raises a brow. Sunlight breaks through the gray afternoon sky, spilling across the white tablecloth and melting the ice once more.

Picking up the glass, she takes a long swallow. "Please, Mab, there isn't a mortal in the room." She puts the glass down, tipping her head at the cafe's other patrons. Not a one of which is looking their way.

No immortal beings are stupid enough to intrude on a meeting between the Courts.

"Order something and relax." Lexa smiles at the waiter. He's nervous, his glamour starting to slip as he waits. "You're scaring the others." She hands the boy her menu, ordering a salad. "They're already nervous enough."

"They should be." Tricia sighs, rubbing her brow. "At least tell me that Rosenbaum wasn't involved?"

"Not this time." Lexa shrugs. "Neither was my husband."

Tricia snorts. "That's a first." She leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Oberon behaving himself. He must be bored."

"Fatherhood agrees with him," Lexa says, her voice tight with anger. Tricia's barbs are nothing new, their verbal war has gone on for ages, but that doesn't do much to lesson the sting.

The sun overhead becomes more oppressive and Tricia smiles at her. "Temper, temper, Titania. You don't want to give some poor mortal heatstroke do you?"

Lexa breathes deep. "Must you?"

"Old habits," Tricia says dismissively. "So, it wasn't either of the Michaels." She rests her chin in her palm, tapping a fork against the tablecloth. "Please don't make me guess."

With an attempt at a laugh, Lexa shakes her head. "I'm not in the mood." She leans into the conversation, lowering her voice. "There was an incident at a con."

Tricia closes her eyes, muttering an oath. "Of course there was," she says, finally. "We should have forbidden those years ago. Every time we mix with Them, something always happens."

It's instinct to argue with her, but Lexa tamps down on it. Tricia isn't wrong. The Unseelie's tendency toward cold logic, unfortunately, means they are quite often right. "You know we can't. There'd be a revolt." Among mortals and immortals alike. "Conventions are one of the few places we can relax the wards."

Tricia's glamour slips just a little, her looks taking on an inhuman beauty. For a moment, she's more Sidhe than human and Lexa envies her. Their mortal disguises are so confining that she chafes to shed the spells suppressing her own true face.

She ignores the temptation, there's business at hand. "We have managed to suppress most problems. Up until this weekend, there hadn't been an incident in years."

"But there's been one," Tricia sits back, letting the waiter put her meal before her, "and you still haven't told me whose head is on the chopping block."

"No one's," Lexa does the same, picking up her fork. She picks at the salad before her, watching Tricia's expression. "It was an accident, really, and it's been contained for the most part. Save for a few singed eyebrows, we've restored almost everything to its proper place." She's had people on the ground, weaving spell after spell of glamour to hide it. "The convention had both Courts in attendance. Tahmoh tells me no one remembers a thing."

She takes a bite, ignoring the way Tricia stops to stare at her.

"You involved one of _mine_?"

Lexa smiles. "You forget, he was one of mine first. He'd a child of both Courts, Mab." It grates on her to admit it, but not as much as it does for Tricia to hear it. The issue of Tahmoh has been a familiar disagreement for many years. "He handled it well, actually." She takes a sip of water, enjoying the way the room's temperature drops.

It's petty to indulge herself this way, but she's earned it. "As it involved both Courts, there wasn't anyone better on site."

"And what," Tricia snaps, "exactly did he _handle_?"

Amused, Lexa shrugs. "Oh, just the part where Jared lost form and nearly incinerated three fans."

Tricia's reaction is a credit to her loyalties. The Queen of the Unseelie, Sovereign of the Winter Courts, sits back and calmly lays her fork by her plate. The frost creeping over the window and their breath misting in the air are the only sign of her rage. "He _what_?" she bites out.

"As I said, it was an accident." Lexa shrugs. "We've investigated it thoroughly. Somehow, three young women, mortals, managed to break into his hotel suite. They happened to catch him at the moment of transformation and -- "

Tricia exhales. "Are they still alive?"

"Mercifully, yes. Jensen happened to be in the room. He intervened before the flames could do any damage." Lexa grins. "He is quite talented for a Brownie, had everything largely sewn up before Tahmoh and the others even made it to the room. Jared is, of course, beside himself with worry. The girls remember nothing, but he's still absolutely horrified of course."

"He should be," Tricia says, grabbing her glass. "The damage he could have done -- "

"But didn't," Lexa assures. "It's over. We're finishing the clean up now. The only reason we're sitting here is treaty law." And to avoid giving the Unseelie a reason to start another war.

They've had two small ones and a skirmish since Tricia took up with Galactica. Playing a Cylon seems to have revived her bloodlust.

"He'll be punished, of course?" Tricia asks, returning to her meal.

"Naturally." Lexa tips her head. "I'll take care of it." She knows how the Unseelie handle punishments and Jared's human form is so very _pretty_. She clears her throat. "No need to get involved, not when you have show press to be doing. You know how hard it is to promote a show and oversee a ritual torture at the same time. One misstep and Katie Couric is getting flambéed on national television."

Tricia clears her throat. "Do you really have to keep bringing that up?"

"No," Lexa says, "I just enjoy it."

A burst of snow and ice herald Tricia's departure.

Shaking her head, Lexa summons the afternoon sun to ward it off then looks for the waiter. "I wonder if they have pie."

*

She opts for the chocolate cheesecake instead. When the waiter brings it, setting it before her with a flourish, she smiles. "You can tell your dragon he gets to keep his scales."

Jensen's glamour vanishes immediately. "You're sure? Cause the last time I met that woman -- " He coughs. "The last time I met the Queen -- "

Lexa contemplates coffee, chasing the last crumbs of her cheesecake around her plate. "She behaved like Mab?"

"Kinda." Jensen sighs. "This? This why he never does cons. You know how many almost-flambés we've had?"

"Yes." Lexa smiles at his dismayed expression. "If you want to keep them under the radar, you shouldn't be working in Vancouver."

He scowls. "And you know that's _why_ we work in Vancouver." She looks at him sharply and he coughs. "Uh, Your Highness."

As apologies go, it's pathetic, but the cheesecake was very good and she's in a good mood. "Whatever his feelings on the matter, he should lie low for a while. If something like this happens again, I can't guarantee Mab will let him live. Winter's patience only seems endless and she's nearly reached the end of hers."

"Yeah," Jensen gestures at the still melting snow, "so I noticed."

Licking chocolate from her finger, Lexa glances at it. "Oh please. That's nothing: you missed her reaction to the Fifth Cylon."

"Which was?" Jensen asks.

"Freak snowstorm in Vegas." Smiling, she pushes her plate away and spots a familiar face in the doorway. Her smile fades. "Now, be a good Brownie and get me a cup of coffee. Make it Irish."

Lexa watches Michael Rosenbaum grin broadly.

"I'm going to need it."


End file.
